


Blood Orange

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fisting, Barebacking, Betrayal, Come as Lube, Double Anal Fisting, Double Penetration in One Hole, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Sibling Incest, Spitroasting, Suicidal Thoughts, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 06:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A newly turned vampire decides his twin brother will make the perfect gift for his vampiric sire.





	Blood Orange

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicago_ruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/gifts).

The Coop, the city's most disreputable gay dive bar, is half-empty on a Wednesday night, its namesake chickenhawks off pulling overtime shifts at blue-collar jobs where they talk loudly about pussy so no one will know they're queer. Kieran's between construction gigs, so it's a good night to hang out at the Coop and get trashed. Joe's not far behind him, a good brother, keeping him company and covering the tab. Joe's out of work too, but he works in tech and got a decent severance package when his last startup folded. Kieran's never made much more than minimum wage and wouldn't know a severance package if it kissed him on the lips and called him Sally.

"I'm so fucking wasted," Kieran mutters.

"You sure are," the bartender says, though Kieran wasn't talking to him. "I'm settling your tab. Here's your card back, pal. No more for either of you."

"Yeah," Joe says. He absently puts his credit card in his shirt pocket, staring at himself in the mirror behind the bar like he can make his eyes focus through sheer willpower. "Yeah, okay. Probably right. Good idea."

"Joe." Kieran nudges him. "Hey. Hey, Joe."

"Yeah?" Joe is still looking at himself in the mirror. Kieran doesn't know why, when Joe could look at Kieran and see the same face.

"You wanna go..." Kieran nods his head to the bathroom and mimes a hand job.

"Whoa, what? Dude, that's, that's fucking sick, dude."

"Come on." Kieran staggers off his bar stool and leans right up against Joe's back. He's tall enough that his hard-on is at the same height as Joe's leather belt. He presses up against it, feeling the edge of the belt through his jeans. "Look at you, you fucking narcissist. You'd get in your own pants if you could. I'm the next best thing."

Joe elbows him away. "Jesus, get a grip." Kieran grins and reaches for Joe's crotch. Joe smacks his hand. "Not on me! You're fucking serious about this, aren't you?"

"Serious like death," Kieran says. He's so drunk he feels sober. It's dangerous. "There's a glory hole in the men's room. You don't have to see me. You can pretend it's someone else. You can pretend it's you." He puts a big hand on Joe's shoulder, squeezes hard, pulls away. "I'll be waiting."

He stumbles off to the men's room and pisses for what feels like about a million years. Then he closes the toilet lid, sits down, and waits. He figures there's about even odds of Joe coming in, maybe to punch him in the face, maybe to get the handy that Kieran's absolutely certain Joe wants as much as Kieran does. If Joe doesn't come in... Kieran doesn't have a plan for that. Maybe go home to his empty apartment. Maybe jump in the river and not even try to swim. It's been a shit year and even his brother won't touch him. _What good is a fucking brother who won't get you off when you're broke and unemployed and single,_ he wonders.

_What good am I,_ he wonders a few minutes later, still sitting alone in the bathroom and marinating in the reek of piss and cheap pink soap. The river starts sounding better and better.

Joe doesn't come in. But someone else does.

* * *

Two weeks later, Kieran is pretty used to being a vampire, and it's great. He's a natural at mind control, which he mostly uses to get free cigarettes and roast beef sandwiches from the corner deli. He'd feel a little bad about ripping them off, but the deli cat is flea-bitten and scrawny and tends to hide under the shelf, and Kieran's got no time for anyone who treats cats badly. Mind control doesn't work on cats, so every couple days Kieran feeds it some roast beef out of his sandwich, making friends the slow way. He has a vague plan to steal the cat someday, once it trusts him enough to come out from under the shelf. The deli guys can't stop him. He's a fucking vampire.

His sire, Werner, has an actual booklet full of vampire rules and lore. Werner's sired a lot of vampires—that's what they call it, even when the one who does the biting is a woman. "Classic vampire misogyny," Werner says, shaking his head. "You're going to run into a lot of that, I'm afraid."

Werner's a sophisticated metrosexual who says shit like that. Kieran, who comes from a long line of Irish cops and firefighters, lets it all roll off him like water. He reads the booklet, though, because if he doesn't, he'll probably do some dumb shit and turn into a pile of dust. There turn out to be a lot of ways for vampires to die: fire, water, sunlight, stabbing, decapitation, starvation, even frostbite. On the other hand, if he avoids all that, he'll live forever.

"Why'd you pick my old drunk ass?" he asks Werner one night. "You could have taken any guy in that bar."

"It's true, I could," Werner says. "But you looked lonely."

Kieran owes Werner a lot.

Joe hasn't talked to Kieran since that night at the Coop, and that's fine. Kieran's been busy, learning the ropes. But Joe's always in the back of his mind. Sometimes Kieran misses him. Sometimes Kieran hates him. Usually it's both.

Every few days, he and Werner go out hunting. It doesn't take long. The nearest McDonald's closes at 1 a.m., and one evening they catch the night manager just as he finishes locking up. A quick look in his eyes, glinting under the sodium vapor streetlights, is all Kieran needs to get him suddenly eager to follow them back to Werner's house with its soundproofed basement.

The basement has a tile floor with a drain in the corner, and it's sparsely furnished. Kieran wouldn't mind fucking a victim in a bed now and then, but Werner, in contrast to his colorful and stylish clothes, has a more utilitarian esthetic for what he views as a utilitarian room. There's a sturdy waist-height table, a couple of old-fashioned barbershop chairs with soft leather seats, and a padded sawhorse, plus a little sink and a cabinet with towels and lube and useful implements. That's it. "Everything else happens in the mind," Werner explained to Kieran once. "Imagination is richer than reality could ever be." That's cool and all, but Kieran wasn't turned at 25 like Werner. He's 45 and his knees hurt.

Kieran's still a little squeamish and he prefers to pretend their victims are willing, but Werner likes it when they scream, and Kieran does what Werner says. The McDonald's manager screams a lot once Kieran lets him realize what's going on. By then they've both gotten a few good mouthfuls off the femoral and Werner's bent the guy over the sawhorse and pushed balls-deep into his unlubed ass. Werner's manicured nails leave red lines and marks on pale skin. Kieran shucks his pants and shoves his dick in the manager's mouth. He's not _that_ squeamish, and the fresh blood is roaring through him like cocaine, making him slightly dizzy and hard as an I-beam. He grabs a handful of blond hair, fucks the guy's throat, and pretends, as he so often does, that it's Joe.

At some point that night, when the screams have turned into tortured moans, he realizes it could be Joe.

After that, it's just a matter of waiting until Werner says Kieran's ready to hunt on his own. The booklet says that the first victim a vampire snares on their own should be a gift for their sire. Kieran figures Werner won't mind if it's a gift for Kieran too.

* * *

Kieran gazes into the eyes of an Iowa tourist, takes her phone from her hand as she stands dazed in the middle of the sidewalk, and Facetimes Joe. He knows Joe always picks up calls from unknown numbers, just in case it's important. His mind tricks don't work so well over the shaky video, but they work well enough that Joe agrees to meet him in front of the Coop.

When Joe shows up, ten minutes late, Kieran's waiting for him. Of course he's looking at his phone, probably scrolling through his own Instagram admiring his selfies. "Joe," Kieran says softly. "Look at me, bro."

"Why?" Joe says irritably, but he looks up, and that's enough. Their eyes meet, and Kieran effortlessly overpowers his brother's unprotected mind.

_You belong to me now,_ he thinks.

_I belong to you now,_ comes Joe's slow, distant thought.

_You want to go home with me._

_I want to go home with you._

Joe reaches out for Kieran's hand like when they were six years old and finally allowed to cross the street on their own. Kieran takes it, interlacing their fingers, and brings Joe home.

Werner's waiting to see the results of Kieran's first solo hunt. He's clearly thrilled when Kieran walks in with a dull-eyed victim, but his smile fades as he looks between their identical faces. "Kieran," he says, "what's this?"

"This is my twin brother, Joe," Kieran says. "He's my gift to you."

Werner tilts his head, considering the two of them. "Is he? But I don't think you want me to keep him all to myself."

"I don't mind," Kieran says with a casual attitude he doesn't feel. "Just leave me the dregs."

"Did you feed?"

"Not yet." Kieran likes it better from the thigh than the neck. The femoral's easier to find than the carotid, and if he does it at the right angle, he gets the sweaty, tangy, animal smell of dick and balls mingling with the sweet metallic taste of blood. He'll do a neck if he's desperate—Werner made sure he knew how—but gay bars and Werner's basement give him plenty of opportunities to get men's pants off.

"Then take a sip, at least." Werner looks Joe in the eye, taking the psychic reins. "Come downstairs, Joe."

"I want to go downstairs," Joe says eagerly.

Werner laughs. "What a puppy you've brought me," he says to Kieran. "I hope he's housebroken."

Within a few minutes they're all naked. Joe's shivering a little. Is it cold in the basement? Kieran no longer feels the cold, so he has no idea.

Where all of Kieran's hard labor has given him muscles, Joe's gone soft around the middle. They don't look as much alike as they used to. But their hard cocks are the same, nestled in curly dark hair, angling up with just a hint of an elegant curve. Kieran stares at them in fascination, just like he did when they were kids, before they both realized they were gay and Joe stopped wanting to be naked around him.

He picks Joe up, reveling in his superhuman strength, and lays his brother down on the table. "You want us to drink from you," he says, staring into Joe's glazed eyes. "You want it so much. It gets you hard just thinking about it. You won't come until one of us tells you to, but the thought of us drinking your blood gets you so close you can taste it."

"Yes, yes," Joe gasps. "Yeah, drink from me."

Werner presses Joe's right leg back, bending it like a chicken wing so Joe's knee is up by his chest. Kieran does the same with the left. Joe moans and reaches down to stroke himself. As the vampires sink their teeth into his thighs, he lets out a gutteral cry of pain and arousal.

Kieran drinks deeply. The rush hits him like a freight train as the fresh blood starts his own sluggish blood moving in his veins. He pulls back and watches the ice-white skin of his hands turn ruddy. His whole body tingles, like pins and needles but everywhere, and his palms and soles are almost burning. His dick is profoundly, achingly hard. His thoughts begin to race and he has to consciously slow himself down. All he wants now is to fuck Joe. He wants it like burning. But Joe is his gift to Werner, so he waits.

Werner steps back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. His skin is darker than Kieran's but the blood-flush is still obvious. His eyes are bright, dancing under the fluorescent lights.

"Look at you," he says, smirking. "You really want to fuck your brother, don't you."

"Oh yeah," Kieran groans.

"And you brought him here because he didn't want to fuck you? Is that it? Or is there something else going on here, some complicated scheme of family revenge?"

Kieran shakes his head. "No, that's all it is. I hit on him, he turned me down. That night you found me at the Coop." Joe, oblivious as long as they're not speaking directly to him, is slowly jerking his cock, his knees still up by his chest and his asshole practically winking at them and begging to be stuffed full. It's the hottest thing Kieran has ever seen. "So yeah. Yeah. I want him. And I want to see you wreck him."

"He's cute," Werner says, "but you know that because he looks like you. You want to watch me destroy someone who looks like you? You want to watch me rape a face that looks just like your face, and an ass that looks just like your ass? You want to shove your cock into your own mouth? That's pretty fucked up." When he says it, it sounds admiring. Kieran gets the sense that Werner left vanilla sex behind about two hundred years ago. Now he needs it sick, the sicker the better, so he doesn't get bored. Kieran's both disgusted and proud that he's managed to earn Werner's approval.

"Yeah," he says again. "That's what I want."

Werner studies Joe, who's now thrashing and whimpering on the hard wooden table as his orgasm is blocked by Kieran's hypnosis. "That's a very good gift," Werner says. "Well done."

Kieran glows at the praise. He's half in love with Werner, to be honest. He'd do anything for his sire.

"By rights he's my gift and you shouldn't even get your dick wet," Werner says, "but I want to watch you fuck your brother. You can even have him your way, at first."

"Thanks, boss," Kieran says, beaming. This is going to be just perfect. He can feel it.

He leans over Joe. "Hey, bro," he says, "look at me."

Joe's eyes are clenched shut but he forces them to open and stares at Kieran, panting. By now he's deeply enthralled and Kieran could probably control him by voice alone, but a little extra eye contact to reinforce it never hurts.

"You want to suck my cock," Kieran tells him. "You want me to fuck your mouth and pour my load down your throat. You want to kiss me while you still taste like my come. You want me in your ass too—you want my cock, my fist, you'd take the fucking Taj Mahal in your ass if I was the one giving it to you. Yeah?"

Joe nods, whimpering. His pupils are huge. "God, Kieran, I want it so much. I want your cock in me. Anywhere, please, please—"

Impulsively, Kieran kneels on the tiles, his joints creaking a bit, and buries his face in his brother's ass. It's sweaty but not too rank and anyway he doesn't care. He really goes to town, working Joe's asshole like it's a Lifesaver candy. Joe thrusts helplessly at the air, grunting, as Kieran eats him out.

Out of the corner of his eye, Kieran can see Werner slowly stroking himself, enjoying the show. He doesn't know how Werner can be so controlled when he's just fed. Joe's blood is in Kieran's veins and it's driving him crazy. 

He licks and sucks every inch of musky skin. He takes Joe's balls in his mouth and rubs his tongue all over them. His own cock is so hard it hurts. If he touches it, he'll go off like a rocket, so he grabs Joe's thighs instead, pressing his thumbs into the healing bite marks and pushing his brother's legs wide open.

"Blow him," Werner orders him. Kieran eagerly complies, grabbing Joe's cock and pointing its tip into his open mouth.

"Joe, when I suck your dick, you won't be blocked from coming anymore," he says. "But hold yourself off as long as you can. And I want you to yell my name as you come."

Joe's response is to push his cock up into Kieran's mouth. They both cry out, Kieran muffled, Joe hollering like a bee stung him. Kieran realigns himself and swallows as much of his brother's cock as he can, working his mouth and throat around it. It's even better than he imagined.

Unbidden, Joe grabs his head and fucks his mouth with abandon, making rapid little thrusts that batter the back of Kieran's throat and make his eyes fill with tears. "Close," Joe gasps, "close, yeah, Kieran, oh fuck, Kieran Kieran Kieran _Kieraaaaaaan_—"

He growls, pulls down Kieran's head, and comes into his throat. It's hot and salty-rich and reminds Kieran of blood, nearly triggering his own orgasm. He hears Werner's matching groan behind him and then feels warm wetness striping his back and shoulders. In that moment Kieran feels like he's exactly where he should be, a receptacle for their pleasure.

Joe relaxes against the table, panting, his legs falling open like he's ready to be fucked by anyone who comes along. Kieran slowly pulls himself to his feet as Werner goes to grab a towel. He wipes off Kieran's back, and the back of his head. There must be jizz in his hair. Been a long time since that happened.

Kieran's balls are tight and desperate for relief. He walks away from Joe only long enough to grab a bottle of lube and slick himself up. He doesn't feel like getting his dick chafed today.

He drizzles a little more of the lube over Joe's hole and then presses the head of his cock against it, testing it. Joe hasn't dated anyone in a while and Kieran doesn't know what he gets up to. But his ass opens easily and readily for Kieran's slippery dick. He pushes Joe's legs back and works himself in with slow thrusts until he bottoms out blissfully in his brother's ass.

Joe cries out, clearly overstimulated, still recovering from coming in Kieran's mouth. Kieran doesn't know how it's possible to get even more turned on, but that noise of mingled lust and protest goes straight to his balls. His rage flares. He could have been fucking Joe all this time if Joe had just let him. He could have gone home with Joe that night instead of into the bathroom, and then Werner would never have turned him. He could have warm company in his bed at night. But no, Joe had to be a fucking prima donna and leave Kieran high and dry.

Payback time.

"When I say your name," he says hoarsely, staring into Joe's deep brown eyes, "all my past suggestions will fall away. You'll remember everything that's happened. But you won't be able to move or fight me. Your muscles will go weak and limp if you try."

He shoves in and then wiggles his hips a bit, making sure his cock is as deep as it can go. "Wake up, Joe," he says.

Joe blinks and stares at him and Werner, utterly in shock. "Kieran, what, how—"

"Your ass is mine, bro," Kieran tells him. 

He pulls out and then pushes back in real slow, feeling how tight and hot the channel is. Joe's face is a portrait of horror as he realizes his brother is fucking him. "No," he begs, his voice faint and pathetic, "no, Kieran, please, no." He's clearly struggling to lift his arms and legs, though he's getting nowhere. He looks like a jellyfish stranded on the beach, all floppy and limp.

Werner is hard again already—fresh blood does that. He strolls around to the side of the table. Kieran laid Joe on it the long way, but once Kieran realizes what Werner wants and pulls out, it's easy enough to turn Joe to lie across it so his head and ass are hanging off. Werner slides right into Joe's beautiful open mouth and begins fucking it casually, like it's a hobby he doesn't care all that much about. Kieran can see the bulge of Werner's cockhead in Joe's throat, a second Adam's apple stroking up and down. Joe twitches and shudders when it's in deep, gulping air whenever Werner lets him.

Kieran props Joe's legs up on his shoulders and rapes his ass like Werner's raping his mouth, slowly and lazily, taking his time, keeping himself on the knife-edge of climax. Joe's body is like a doll he can push around. Tears begin to gather in Joe's eyes, and then to fall. Kieran resists the urge to lick them off Joe's cheeks. "Yeah," he pants, "this is what you get, I'm taking what's mine. You left me, you left me, fuck, yeah." He begins to move harder and faster. "You left me behind, you hateful motherfucker. Here's what you get."

Joe chokes as Kieran's thrusts impale him on Werner's cock, and his gurgling pushes Kieran over the edge. Grabbing Joe's shoulders, Kieran shoves into him as though his entire torso is nothing but a sleeve for Kieran's dick, and pours a massive load of spunk deep in his brother's guts. His cock is jerking, throbbing, and he keeps it in there as long as he can bear to.

Finally he pulls out. Joe's paralyzed legs start to fall; Kieran folds them up, pressing Joe's knees to his chest so his feet end up on either side of his head. "Hold your legs up," he commands, and Joe helplessly wraps his arms around his legs, keeping his body folded in half and his ass perfectly on display. 

_That was too easy,_ Kieran thinks. He's built pretty big, but Joe had no trouble taking him. His ass barely even looks like it's been fucked, except for the drizzle of jizz. Kieran wants to leave more of a mark.

His hands are big and hairy, same as Joe's and their dad's and their uncles', and he's got rough calluses. He makes a fist. It looks too big to fit in anyone's ass. But Kieran's strong and patient and very, very motivated. 

Two fingers go in easy, with Joe all open and full of come and lube. Three is harder, starting to get a real stretch, and Joe moans as Werner continues to lazily fuck his mouth. Kieran's not really thrusting, just kind of squishing around in the wetness and getting a feel for how much of a challenge this is going to be. He pokes Joe's prostate to make him jump. Then he gets serious. The three fingers twist and push in up to the knuckle. 

Joe's got a hard-on now, poking up between his folded-up legs, and he's panting and squirming like he likes it. Kieran had no idea Joe was kinky enough to get off on being fingerbanged by his brother while someone he's never even met before fills his mouth with cock. No wonder his ass was so open. "What have you been up to?" Kieran whispers. "Who's been using you so good? You like being full, huh? You like being stretched out?"

Kieran pulls out enough to tuck his pinky finger in with the other three and then pushes in hard and steady, his unlubed skin creating extra drag. His thumb is almost an afterthought. Joe is keening, no longer moving like it's turning him on. He tries to fight again, but his limbs betray him.

Gripping Joe's thigh for leverage, Kieran starts punching into him, pistoning his whole arm from the shoulder, loving the way each shove gets Werner's cock deeper into Joe's throat. Werner is panting, getting close to his peak, when Kieran finally gets his knuckles past the tight ring of muscle. Joe make an indescribable noise as his ass swallows Kieran's hand up to the wrist. Kieran turns his hand back and forth inside his brother, working his knuckles against slick skin, feeling the almost painful squeeze. He raises his arm to show Werner, lifting Joe's ass right up into the air, and Werner groans out his orgasm, grinding his hips against Joe's upside-down face. When he steps back, leaving Joe's head dangling off the table, Kieran can hear Joe coughing. Probably got jizz up his nose.

Kieran starts working his folded hand in and out of Joe's ass. Werner smiles at the broken cries coming out of Joe's well-fucked throat. "Get him good and open for me," he says. "I bet we can both fit in there when you're done." He settles down in one of the barbershop chairs and watches. 

Kieran shows off for him, pulling out and pushing in slowly and dramatically, really grinding his knuckles around the rim and watching it get red and swollen. Every once in a while he uses his free hand to caress Joe's stiff cock, both turned around and turned on because it's like seeing his own cock from a totally unfamiliar angle.

Joe's ass gradually stretches out and fisting him gets easier. With right hand fully inside him, Kieran experimentally slides the forefinger of his left hand along his right wrist and in, and then his middle finger. Joe is gasping and Kieran can't tell whether he's hurting or enjoying it. Maybe both. Kieran works in a third finger and a fourth. The gasps turn into cries, definitely pain now. The sound makes Kieran's cock throb. "Fucking take it," he whispers as he tries to push his knuckles in. "I know you can take it, size queen. Gonna wreck your greedy ass."

His knuckles go in with a pop and he clasps his hands together inside his brother's ass. It's so tight he can barely move his fingers. Slowly he lifts his arms up and apart, using his wrists to lever Joe's ass open like he's a human speculum. Joe screams wordlessly, writhing on the table, still compelled to hold his legs up and offer his ass to Kieran's relentless hands.

As Kieran pries his wrists apart, he briefly wonders whether he can get his dick in there. Maybe not this time, but if Werner decides to keep Joe as a mind-controlled pet, Kieran's pretty sure he can work up to it.

In the meantime, Werner's looking eager for a go, sitting in the barbershop chair with his legs spread and stroking his cock hungrily. "You ready?" Kieran asks him.

"Oh yes," Werner says.

Kieran pulls out his left hand and then his right, shaking them out before they cramp, and admires Joe's red and puffy asshole. He leaves Joe sobbing on the table and goes to wash his hands. Werner's fastidious.

Werner leans back in the chair, dick pointing up at the ceiling. Kieran effortlessly scoops up Joe, who's still hugging his legs to his chest, and carries him over. Slowly, he lowers Joe's ass onto Werner's cock. It goes in so easily that at first he's not sure he aimed right. "Oh yeah," Werner says, wriggling his hips, "there's plenty of room in here. Come on in."

Kieran works the foot pedal, raising the chair jerkily upwards until it's at just the right height. Joe shudders with every bump, bouncing on Werner's cock, whispering "No, please" over and over even though he must know by now that they're not going to stop. Werner wraps his arms just under Joe's and pulls Joe back against his chest, and Kieran steps forward, straddling the foot rest, and embraces them both. He presses his mouth over his brother's mouth, forcing his tongue between Joe's swollen lips as Joe tries to protest. They both taste like come.

He reaches down and feels the base of Werner's cock. Taking his own in hand, he slides it alongside Werner's, just like he did with his hands. It's hard to breach Joe's asshole, as prepped as it is, but Kieran has vampire strength and his dick is steel-hard. It doesn't take long before he's jammed it in there for the tightest fuck he's ever felt. It's unbelievable, tight enough that it feels like it should hurt, but instead it's like being sucked into a slick-hot mouth. Werner's cock slides against his and together they stretch and distort Joe's ass in ways nature never intended.

He fucks Joe slowly at first, then faster, his mouth on his brother's mouth, his brother's screams reverberating against his invading tongue. Werner holds Joe still, making short shallow thrusts of his own. Kieran feels like he's fucking both of them at once.

"Lemme hear him," Werner gasps. Kieran reluctantly pulls his mouth off of Joe's. He can feel Joe's cock trapped against his belly, only half-hard now as he shudders in agony. Kieran grabs it as though he might tear it off and is rewarded with a shriek of pain and terror. He squeezes it savagely as he fucks his brother's ravaged body, feeling how every cry makes Werner's cock swell against his. It's so hard for him to leave Joe's mouth open and empty. He wants to shove his cock in there, his hand, maybe Joe's own foot—anything to fill it up. 

Or maybe he's projecting. Even as he drives into Joe, savoring the hot wrongness of joining his sire in raping his brother, Kieran craves Werner's cock in his ass and Werner's hand fisting his mouth. He's got what he wants, he realizes. Everything he wanted from Joe, Werner gives him, and then some. He doesn't feel rejected and alone anymore. He feels loved, and free.

He eases out and steps back, smiling. "Thank you for letting me have a taste," he says. "He really is all yours now. I'm done with him."

Werner raises an eyebrow and smiles. "Then enjoy the show," he says.

"I release you from all compulsions," Kieran tells Joe, knowing that Werner likes it when they struggle. Then he lowers himself into another chair and wraps his hand around his cock, admiring the blurring speed with which Werner breaks Joe's wrists and ankles. Joe's disposable—he understands that now. All humans are. What matters is the bond between Kieran and Werner. Infinite nights of shared pleasures stretch out before them. This is just the beginning.


End file.
